Judy Moody Goes to College - Megan Mcdonald [8]
When the slide show and the yakking were over, everybody got to make paintings of their own. (Finally!)
Judy got to stand next to Chloe at a tall table and make a big giant mess. At college, it did not matter if paper scraps got all over the table. At college, it did not matter if paint dripped all over the floor. And at college, it did not matter how many supplies you used, even a whole entire bottle of sparkly-blue glitter glue.
Chloe said worrying about rules was old skool. Chloe said art is life and life is messy, so art should be messy.
At college, all that mattered was that you (1) use your imagination (which Judy had loads and loads of) and (2) be yourself. Who else would she, Judy Moody, be?
Judy was so busy using her imagination and being herself that she made seven artworks in no time, including a monster Venus flytrap, a self-portrait cut into cubes, and a bad-mood painting that looked a little like the spilled-can-of-paint-guy’s masterpiece with a dollop of Judy Moody thrown in.
Chloe was painting a bowl of cherries sitting on a chair.
“Are you still working on the same painting?” Judy asked.
“It takes a long time to paint a still life,” said Chloe.
“Yeah, but you might want to try finishing it while you are still in this life. It’s only cherries.” Judy turned her head sideways. “Or is it goldfish?”
“Thanks a lot,” said Chloe.
“You should put some polka dots in the background,” said Judy. “And it needs a cat or something.”
Chloe said she liked Judy’s ideas, but Judy did not see her painting any polka dots. Or cats. Just the same old cherries-not-goldfish bowl.
Judy picked up the squishy foam tray from under Chloe’s real-life cherries. “Do you mind if I use this to make a pop-art painting like that Soup Can Guy?”
“Go for it,” said Chloe.
A pop-art painting, Judy had just learned, was a painting of an everyday object, something that you see all the time, like a soup can, and don’t even think about. Then when you paint it shocking pink or lemon yellow, all of a sudden it shocks you, and you think about it.
Judy drew a Band-Aid in the foam tray. She poked lots of holes for Band-Aid holes. Then she smeared it with paint and pressed it over and over nine times on one big piece of paper in lots of different neon-bright colors.
“My pop art really pops!” Judy told Chloe.
“You did that?” said Chloe. “It looks fantastic! I mean it.”
Chloe still had not painted one single polka dot. Not even a cat hair. “Aren’t you done yet?” Judy asked. “You are going to get an S for Slow or a T for Turtle in this class.”
Chloe laughed. “Okay, let’s go. I can finish this later.”
Judy gathered up all her paintings. “I’m going to hang them up in my bedroom, like an art show. I think this one’s my best.” She pointed to her pop-art painting. “I call it Portrait of a Band-Aid-Not-Soup-Can without Shadows, Deluxe Edition.”
“I like how you signed it just Jude,” said Chloe.
“That’s my artist name.”
“Well, Just Jude, I think you better leave that one here, because it’s not dry yet.”
“Aw!” said Judy.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on it for you. You can pick it up next time you come for tutoring. I better get you home. I have a twenty-page philosophy paper to write about Plato and Socrates.”
Play-Doh and Soccer Teams? “Well, at least you get to write about fun stuff,” said Judy.
“Yeah, right.” As they climbed into Chloe’s punch-buggy Gecko Green VW Beetle, Chloe told Judy, “You busted that art class!”
“I owned it,” Judy said, beaming from ear to ear.
As far as Judy could tell, there were only three bad things about college: (1) going to school on Saturday, (2) Naked Lady Class, and (3) yakking for a year and a day about shadows.
Other than that, college had hardly any rules, and you got to make a lot of noise about being peaceful. You got to have sleepovers every night with roomies like Bethany Wigmore and play drums with peeps like Paul and hang out in tents that did not have attitude and eat burgers made of veggies all day and change boring,